This epic poem is set in Denmark,
the land of 'the Spear-Danes in days gone by', but it was written in England
hundreds of years after its mythic events. The author of Beowulf is unknown and its date of composition remains hotly
debated: anywhere between the 5th and 11th centuries
AD. Beowulf was almost certainly an
oral epic, like The Iliad, that
went through many transformations as it was passed down through the
generations. This version, in its own strange way, tells the story of the
coming of Christianity to the Barbarian tribes of Europe's northern lands.

An ancient monster stirs from deep in the forest and
terrorizes a land that is just beginning to achieve some peace after years of
tribal warfare. The mead-hall of Heorot signifies King Hrothgar's sovereignty
and the hope that order will finally end centuries of internecine chaos and
violence. Hrothgar is a Christian King, the fourth in a line of Christian
kings, whom God has given victory in battle, allowing the Danes to glimpse at
long last the possibility of peace. Yet even in the first moments of the
poem, just as the poet celebrates the glory of Heorot, his ancient Norse
fatalism predicts the doom of the hall (Ragnorak)
and the unleashing once again of 'the bood-lust rampant'. (86)

This doom seems at hand
when the midnight monster Grendel, one of Cain's clan, begins his reign of
terror. By night he lurks in the fens and woods nearby the castle, listening
to the singing and laughter and reveling of Hrothgar's warriors as they feast
and drink next to Heorot's hearth. Finally, enraged by songs of praise to the
Almighty God, Grendel steals into the hall and butchers sleeping warriors,
carrying corpses off to his swamp lair where he feeds on them with his beast-like
mother.

To the rescue from over the seas comes Beowulf, the Viking
warrior with the mighty grip, who seems less the prototypical Christian hero
of Medieval romance and more an epic hero like Achilles in pursuit of kleos.Kleos is the name you earn
for yourself in your lifetime. Beowulf’s desire for warrior-prowess among the living overwhelms any concern
about the soul’s destiny in the afterlife.
It is
always better
To avenge dear ones than to indulge in mourning.
For every one of us, living in this world
Means waiting for our end. Let whoever can
Win glory before death. When a warrior is gone,
That will be his best and only bulwark. [1384–9]

The epic recounts Beowulf’s
three great fights against creatures of the old religion: the nightmare
monster Grendel, his hag-like mother, and as an old man, in a final fatal
encounter, Beowulf slays a fire breathing dragon. Beowulf’s demise is
tempered some by his Christianity, but the more ancient pagan beliefs retain
their potency: none can overcome the wyrd
of fate, and the Geat women keen Beowulf’s passing, fearing the return of
dark times:

On a height they kindled the
hugest of all
Funeral fires; fumes of woodsmoke
Billowed darkly up, the blaze roared
And drowned out their weeping, wind died down
And flames wrought havoc in the hot bone-house,
Burning it to the core. They were disconsolate
And wailed aloud for their lord’s decease.
A Geat woman too sang out in grief;
With hair bound up, she unburdened herself
Of her worst fears, a wild litany
Of nightmare and lament: her nation invaded,
Enemies on the rampage, bodies in piles,
Slavery and abasement. Heaven swallowed the smoke.
(last lines of the poem)

Close Analysis:

**Lines 1-65 (Prologue)
The generations before the reign Hrothgar, the great King of the Danes and
builder of the mead-hall Heorot

These warriors carved out a kingdom in these icy, northern lands through
conquest. They are fighters who other warriors will stand beside and hold the
line! (27)

Shield was still thriving when his time cameand he crossed over into the Lord's keeping.His warrior band did what he bade themwhen he laid down the law among the Danes:they
shouldered him out to the sea's
flood,
30the chief they revered who had long ruled them.A ring-whorled prow rode in the harbour,ice-clad, outbound, a craft for a prince.They stretched their beloved lord in his boat,laid out by the mast, amidships,the great ring-giver. Far-fetched treasureswere piled upon him, and precious gear.I never heard before of a ship so well furbishedwith battle tackle, bladed weaponsand
coats of mail. The massed
treasure
40was loaded on top of him: it would travel faron out into the ocean's sway.They decked his body no less bountifullywith offerings than those first ones didwho cast him away when he was a childand launched him alone out over the waves.And they set a gold standard uphigh above his head and let him driftto wind and tide, bewailing himand
mourning their loss. No man can
tell,
50no wise man in hall or weathered veteranknows for certain who salvaged that load.

**Lines 65-88The
Construction of Heorot: the wooden lodge, mead hall built for reveling
through the deep northern winter.

After
three generations of war under Beow and Halfdane, Hrothgar achieves peace. He
builds Heorot as a place where peace can be celebrated: honoring his allies
and subjects with feasts, gifts, and entertainments (heroic poems!).

Happy as the singer is to speak of Heorot's magnificence, he still laments
that the hall will someday burn; it's doom abides.

Heorot was the name
he had settled on it, whose utterance was law.
Nor did he renege, but doled out rings
and torques at the table. The hall towered,
its gables wide and high and awaiting
a barbarous burning. That doom abided,
but in time it would come: the killer instinct
unleashed among in-laws, the blood-lust rampant.but in time it would come: the killer instinctunleashed among in-laws, the blood-lust rampant.Then a powerful demon, a prowler through the dark,nursed a hard grievance. (79-86)

What kind of Christianity is this? Which religion still predominates in
the early days of the Christianity in Europe’snorth country?

Who
is Grendel? Where does he come from? The writer identifies him as one of
Cain's clan, but it sounds almost as if he is applying the Bible to an entity
far older than Cain. Who did the villagers think Grendel was before
the coming of the Christians?

What infuriates Grendel about Heorot Hall?

So times were pleasant for the people thereuntil
finally one, a fiend out of
hell,
100began to work his evil in the world.Grendelwas the name of this grim demonhaunting the marches, marauding round the heathand the desolate fens; he had dwelt for a timein misery among the banished monsters,Cain's clan, whom the Creator had outlawedand condemned as outcasts.

What
is uncanny about the nature of Grendel's raids? When do they take place? Why
are the results undiscovered until morning? Where does Grendel really reside?

So, after nightfall, Grendel set outfor the lofty house, to see how the Ring-Daneswere settling into it after their drink,and there he came upon them, a company of the bestasleep from their feasting, insensible to painand
human sorrow. Suddenly
then
120the God-cursed brute was creating havoc;greedy and grim, he grabbed thirty menfrom their resting places and rushed to his lair,flushed up and inflamed from the raid,blundering back with the butchered corpses.

Then as dawn brightened and the day brokeGrendel's powers of destruction were plain:their wassail was over, they wept to heavenand mourned under morning. Their mighty prince,the
storied leader, sat stricken and
helpless,
130humiliated by the loss of his guard,bewildered and stunned, staring aghastat the demon's trail, in deep distress.

The
monster will meet no civilized method of redressing his wrong: no
reparations, no payment for hostages, no end to the blood feud. (151) For
twelve winters, the Danes suffer Grendel’s raids. In despair, the
people turn again to their pagan gods and pray that the killer of souls
might come to their aid. (175) The people endure 'panic after dark' as the
raids continue.

So Grendel ruled in defiance of right,one against all, until the greatest housein the world stood empty, a deserted wallstead.For twelve winters, seasons of woe,the lord of the Shieldings suffered underhis load of sorrow; and so, before long,the
news was known over the whole
world.
150Sad lays were sung about the beset king,the vicious raids and ravages of Grendel,his long and unrelenting feud,nothing but war; how he would neverparley or make peace with any Danenor stop his death-dealing nor pay the death-price.No counsellor could ever expectfair reparation from those rabid hands.All were endangered; young and oldwere
hunted down by that dark
death-shadow
160who lurked and swooped in the long nightson the misty moors; nobody knowswhere these reavers from hell roam on their errands.

So Grendel waged his lonely war,inflicting constant cruelties on the people,atrocious hurt. He took over Heorot,haunted the glittering hall after dark,

A hero
from another country across the seas (Geatland) hears tell of Hrothgar's
troubles at the great hall of Heorot, and he vows to come to their aid. Why?

When he heard about Grendel,Hygelac's thanewas on home ground, over in Geatland.There was no one else like him alive.In his day, he wasthe mightiest man on earth,high-born and powerful. He ordered a boatthat would ply the waves. He announced his plan:to
sail the swan's road and search out that
king,
200the famous prince who needed defenders.Nobody tried to keep him from going,no elder denied him, dear as he was to them.

The symbolism that accompanies his voyage
over the sea and his arrival in the Dane land: the coming of a Christian
hero.

Time
went by, the boat was on
water,
210in close under the cliffs.Men climbed eagerly up the gangplank,sand churned in surf, warriors loadeda cargo of weapons, shining war-gearin the vessel's hold, then heaved out,away with a will in their wood-wreathed ship.Over the waves, with the wind behind herand foam at her neck, she flew like a birduntil her curved prow had covered the distanceand
on the following day, at the due
hour,
220those seafarers sighted land,sunlit cliffs, sheer cragsand looming headlands, the landfall they sought.It was the end of their voyage and the Geats vaultedover the side, out on to the sand,and moored their ship. There was a clash of mailand a thresh of gear. They thanked Godfor that easy crossing on a calm sea.

The
watchman on guard at the coastal bluff is amazed at the open and fearless way
that this war-like party has arrived on Hrothgar's lands. He questions the
leader Beowulf with courtesy but firmness. Beowulf
responds directly. He announces that he has come to do what the
Danes could not: fight and defeat this corpse-maker.

The leader of the troop unlocked his word-hoard;the distinguished one delivered this answer:"We
belong by birth to the Geat
people
260and owe allegiance to Lord Hygelac.In his day, my father was a famous man,a noble warrior-lord named Ecgtheow.He outlasted many a long winterand went on his way. All over the worldmen wise in counsel continue to remember him.We come in good faith to find your lordand nation's shield, the son of Halfdane.Give us the right advice and direction.We
have arrived here on a great
errand
270to the lord of the Danes, and I believe thereforethere should be nothing hidden or withheld between us.So tell us if what we have heard is trueabout this threat, whatever it is,this danger abroad in the dark nights,this corpse-maker mongering deathin the Shieldings' country. I come to proffermy wholehearted help and counsel.I can show the wise Hrothgar a wayto
defeat his enemy and find
respite—
280if any respite is to reach him, ever.I can calm the turmoil and terror in his mind.Otherwise, he must endure woesand live with grief for as long as his hallstands at the horizon, on its high ground."

Lines 300-330 The march
to Heorot and arrival in the great hall.Lines 330-355 The
Courteous Welcome: Wulfgar asks Beowulf of the reasons for his visit
in such war-like garb.Lines 355-390
Hrothgar agrees to meet with this warrior, saying that he has heard marvelous
tales of the strength in the grip of his hand.Lines 400-455 Beowulf's
speech to Hrothgar: he vows to fight Grendel in single combat, hand to hand.Lines 455-500
Hrothgar remembers times in the past when he and Beowulf's father had come to
each other's aid. He agrees to allow Beowulf to do battle for the honor of
his hall and for his own renown, and promises rich payment in treasure if he
succeeds in killing the monster. None of his warriors have been successful.**Lines 500-530
Unferth, a Dane, insults Beowulf by questioning the truth of one of his
legendary feats, the swimming contest with Breca.

"Are you the Beowulf who took on Brecain a swimming match on the open sea,risking the water just to prove that you could win?It was sheer vanity made you venture outon
the main deep. And no matter who
tried,
510friend or foe, to deflect the pair of you,neither would back down: the sea-test obsessed you.You waded in, embracing water,taking its measure, mastering currents,riding on the swell. The ocean swayed,winter went wild in the waves, but you viedfor seven nights; and then he outswam you,came ashore the stronger contender.He was cast up safe and sound one morningamong
the Heathoreams, then made his
way
520to where he belonged in Bronding country,home again, sure of his groundin strongroom and bawn. So Breca made goodhis boast upon you and was proved right.No matter, therefore, how you may have faredin every bout and battle until now,this time you'll be worsted; no one has everoutlasted an entire night against Grendel."

Lines 530-610
Beowulf corrects Unferth, telling the tale of the swimming match and his own
defeat of the sea monsters that had preyed on the ships in the North Seas. He
concludes by reminding the Danes that none of their champions have survived a
night in the hall with Grendel on the prowl, but he will face the monster
unarmed.

Beowulf, Ecgtheow's son, replied:"Well,
friend Unferth, you have had your
say
530about Breca and me. But it was mostly beerthat was doing the talking. The truth is this:when the going was heavy in those high waves,I was the strongest swimmer of all.We'd been children together and we grew updaring ourselves to outdo each other,boasting and urging each other to riskour lives on the sea. And so it turned out.Each of us swam holding a sword,a
naked, hard-proofed blade for
protection
540against the whale-beasts. But Breca could nevermove out farther or faster from methan I could manage to move from him.Shoulder to shoulder, we struggled onfor five nights, until the long flowand pitch of the waves, the perishing cold,night falling and winds from the northdrove us apart. The deep boiled upand its wallowing sent the sea-brutes wild.My
armour helped me to hold
out;
550my hard-ringed chain-mail, hand-forged and linked,a fine, close-fitting filigree of gold,kept me safe when some ocean creaturepulled me to the bottom. Pinioned fastand swathed in its grip, I was granted onefinal chance: my sword plungedand the ordeal was over. Through my own hands,the fury of battle had finished off the sea-beast.

**Lines 605-660 Queen
Wealhtheow calms the tension by entering the hall and passing the ale-cup for
all to drink from. Beowulf makes a formal boast when he has drunk from the
cup that he will free Heorot from Grendel or die in the attempt.**Lines 660-690
Hrothgar and his Queen retire for the night, confident that the King of Glory
has brought them a champion who will be a match for Grendel.**Lines 688-730 (Grendel's Approach) Beowulf and the Geat
warriors bed down for the night in the hall. Grendel makes his uncanny
approach [audio],
springing locks, doors bursting open, the sleeping warriors at his mercy- all
except Beowulf who remains vigilant, silently eyeing the monster's approach.

Then down the brave man lay with his bolsterunder his head and his whole companyof
sea-rovers at rest beside
him.
690None of them expected he would ever seehis homeland again or get backto his native place and the people who reared him.They knew too well the way it was before,how often the Danes had fallen preyto death in the mead-hall. But the Lord was weavinga victory on His war-loom for the Weather-Geats.Through the strength of one they all prevailed;they would crush their enemy and come throughin
triumph and gladness. The truth is
clear:
700Almighty God rules over mankindand always has.Then out of the nightcame the shadow-stalker, stealthy and swift;the hall-guards were slack, asleep at their posts,all except one; it was widely understoodthat as long as God disallowed it,the fiend could not bear them to his shadow-bourne.One man, however, was in fighting mood,awake and on edge, spoiling for action.In
off the moors, down through the mist
bands
710God-cursed Grendel came greedily loping.The bane of the race of men roamed forth,hunting for a prey in the high hall.Under the cloud-murk he moved towards ituntil it shone above him, a sheer keepof fortified gold. Nor was that the first timehe had scouted the grounds of Hrothgar's dwelling—although never in his life, before or since,did he find harder fortune or hall-defenders.Spurned
and joyless, he journeyed on
ahead
720and arrived at the bawn. The iron-braced doorturned on its hinge when his hands touched it.Then his rage boiled over, he ripped openthe mouth of the building, maddening for blood,pacing the length of the patterned floorwith his loathsome tread, while a baleful light,flame more than light, flared from his eyes.He saw many men in the mansion, sleeping,a ranked company of kinsmen and warriorsquartered
together. And his glee was
demonic,
730picturing the mayhem: before morninghe would rip life from limb and devour them,feed on their flesh; but his fate that nightwas due to change, his days of raveninghad come to an end.

**Lines 730-810
Grendel kills one of Beowulf's men, but the hero waits for the perfect moment
to strike, and when he does he latches on to the monster's arm and holds him
with his grip. The Hall quakes and booms with the violence of their struggle.
Beowulf's men try to aid their champion, but their swords are of no use
against the monster's charmed hide.

Mighty and canny,Hygelac's kinsman was keenly watchingfor the first move the monster would make.Nor did the creature keep him waitingbut struck suddenly and started in;he
grabbed and mauled a man on his
bench,
740bit into his bone-lappings, bolted down his bloodand gorged on him in lumps, leaving the bodyutterly lifeless, eaten uphand and foot. Venturing closer,his talon was raised to attack Beowulfwhere he lay on the bed;he was bearing inwith open claw when the alert hero'scomeback and armlock forestalled him utterly.The captain of evil discovered himselfin
a handgrip harder than
anything
750he had ever encountered in any manon the face of the earth. Every bone in his bodyquailed and recoiled, but he could not escape.He was desperate to flee to his denand hide with the devil's litter, for in all his dayshe had never been clamped or cornered like this.Then Hygelac's trusty retainer recalledhis bedtime speech, sprang to his feetand got a firm hold. Fingers were bursting,the
monster back-tracking the man
overpowering.
760The dread of the land was desperate to escape,to take a roundabout road and fleeto his lair in the fens. The latching powerin his fingers weakened; it was the worst tripthe terror-monger had taken to Heorot.And now the timbers trembled and sang,a hall-session that harrowed every Daneinside the stockade: stumbling in furythe two contenders crashed through the building.The
hall clattered and hammered, but
somehow
770survived the onslaught and kept standing:it was handsomely structured, a sturdy framebraced with the best of blacksmith's workinside and out. The story goesthat as the pair struggled, mead-benches were smashedand sprung off the floor, gold fittings and all.Before then, no Shielding elder would believethere was any power or person upon earthcapable of wrecking their horn-rigged hallunless
the burning embrace of a
fire
780engulf it in flame.Then an extraordinarywail arose, and bewildering fearcame over the Danes. Everyone felt itwho heard that cry as it echoed off the wall,a God-cursed scream and strain of catastrophe,the howl of the loser, the lament of the hell-serfkeening his wound. He was overwhelmed,manacled fight by the man who of all menwas foremost and strongest in the days of this life.

But
the earl-troop's leader was not
inclined
790to allow his caller to depart alive:he did not consider that life of much accountto anyone anywhere. Time and again,Beowulf's warriors worked to defendtheir lord's life, laying about themas best they could with their ancestral blades.Stalwart in action, they kept striking outon every side, seeking to cutstraight to the soul. When they joined the strugglethere
was something they could not have known at the
time,
800that no blade on earth, no blacksmith's artcould ever damage their demon opponent.He had conjured the harm from the cutting edgeof every weapon. But his going awayout of this world and the days of his lifewould be agony to him, and his alien spiritwould travel far into fiends' keeping.

**Lines 810-851 Beowulf
finally wrenches Grendel's arm from his shoulder, and the monster flees into
the night, mortally wounded.

Then he who had harrowed the hearts of menwith pain and affliction in former timesand
had given offence also to
God
810found that his bodily powers failed him.Hygelac's kinsman kept him helplesslylocked in a handgrip. As long as either lived,he was hateful to the other.The monster's wholebody was in pain, a tremendous woundappeared on his shoulder. Sinews splitand the bone-lappings burst. Beowulf was grantedthe glory of winning; Grendel was drivenunder the fen-banks, fatally hurt,to
his desolate lair. His days were
numbered,
820the end of his life was coming over him,he knew it for certain; and one bloody clashhad fulfilled the dearest wishes of the Danes.The man who had lately landed among them,proud and sure, had purged the hall,kept it from harm; he was happy with his nightworkand the courage he had shown. The Geat captainhad boldly fulfilled his boast to the Danes:he had healed and relieved a huge distress, unremitting
humiliations,
830the hard fate they'd been forced to undergo,no small affliction. Clear proof of thiscould be seen in the hand the hero displayedhigh up near the roof:the whole of Grendel'sshoulder and arm, his awesome grasp.

Then morning came and many a warriorgathered, as I've heard, around the gift-hall,clan-chiefs flocking from far and neardown wide-ranging roads, wondering greatlyat
the monster's footprints. His fatal
departure
840was regretted by no-one who witnessed his trail,the ignominious marks of his flightwhere he'd skulked away, exhausted in spiritand beaten in battle, bloodying the path,hauling his doom to the demons' mere.The bloodshot water wallowed and surged,there were loathsome upthrows and overturningsof waves and gore and wound-slurry.With his death upon him, he had dived deepinto
his marsh-den, drowned out his
life
850and his heathen soul: hell claimed him there.